


all the echoes in my mind

by ViolentlyAlice (ViolentAddict)



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes (Downey films)
Genre: AU, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, M/M, Mary is Loveable, Mental Institution - AU, Modern AU, POV John Watson, PTSD John, Sherlock is a Brat, Sherlock is a Mess, Slow Burn, Teen! Mary, Teen! Sherlock, Teen! Watson, Trigger Warnings, psych ward au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-28 22:08:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14458818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViolentAddict/pseuds/ViolentlyAlice
Summary: Watson never plans to leave the ward. Life outside will likely leave him dead. So, he'll stay in his haven of safety for as long as he can and watch the world pass by from his window. After all, if there's one thing he's absolutely certain: he's not missing anything.And then along comes Sherlock, a crass, bratty patient who smells of adventure and a life well lived. This is new to Watson who has never been around someone screaming with so much...vitality before. Sherlock and Watson are nothing alike, but maybe that's why Watson's so drawn to him.Together they form an unlikely friendship and Watson soon realizes that maybe he wants more than to just sit on the sidelines. Maybe he wants the best that life has to offer. Then again, he may be in way over his head.This is a story of one man's realization that the greatest risk is not taking one.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Mentions of suicidal attempts and ideation, mentions of sexual abuse, and PTSD. Please click out if any of these things are triggering for you. You've been warned. Stay safe and take care of yourself.
> 
> Note: This takes place in a fictional institution in London, England. It may not be accurate to the letter as I am writing from mostly research and imagination rather than experience. 
> 
> To anyone who has ever felt doubt or fear or sadness, this is for you. ;)

The fish in the koi pond are the most graceful creatures Watson has ever seen. They glide through the water effortlessly without a care in the world and coexist in peace. Creatures so simple in faculty but content all the same. He finds that maybe, he’s a little envious. After all, they don’t seem to have any issues from his point of view, except having limited knowledge of the world.

He chuckles to himself, maybe that’s the secret to wanting to live, having limited knowledge.

“There you are, Jay! You wandered off again, did you?” Juno asks, she walks towards him, her hands on her hips. 

Watson squints at her silhouette in the sun. “I’m here where I always am.”

She nods. “That you are. It’s almost lunch, Clark will bludgeon me if I let you stay out here again.” Leaning forward to give him a hand, she smiles. “Come on, you can play with the fish later.”

He huffs. He wants to tell her he was marvelling at them and that’s a world of difference from playing with them, but he keeps his mouth shut. He likes Juno, she’s probably the only nurse here who treats him like an actual person rather than a patient. With him, she can get away with a lot.

They walk together in silence, Watson disappearing in his head again. He watches the sky above, muted in pastel blues with a hint of yellow and basks in the warmth of the sun rays that meet his face. 

He waits as Juno and Martha call everyone back to the building before he squeezes himself into the pile of people making their way back. 

Mary spots him and comes to his side. “They don’t see me,” she whispers to him, laughing giddily.

He nods. “Hopefully, one day they will.”

She nods, agreeing. Her magnetic eyes suddenly widen with dazzling brilliance. “You see me, because you have faith,” she claims.

Watson nods his head again and gives her a genuine smile.

He stands in the lunch line, Mary behind him. She’s awfully quiet now, but she tends to get that way when she’s around many of the nurses. A calm has fallen on the ward now that it’s time to eat, sure there’s the cacophony of people chewing their food and the scritch-scratch of plastic cutlery meeting plastic plates, but it’s all serene. Watson has heard this same dissonance for so long now that it’s practically background music to him. 

He sits at his table alone, sometimes he’ll sit with Mary but when she’s in her silent moods, she seems more content to be by herself. Watson, never one to impose, is always willing to give her her space. “What good is it being yourself if you can’t stand your own company?” his mother used to say. And he had to admit, she made a good point.

He digs into his chicken and mashed potatoes, chewing slowly.

The food here isn’t the best, but he’s had worse. 

He finishes his meal just before Patricia comes in to remind him of his session with Dr. Park. 

Watson doesn’t speak much, but he’s been making slow progress. When he first arrived at Pembleton Memorial, he didn’t speak at all. It was disconcerting for the staff and medical personnel because Pembleton prides itself on group activities and therapy approaches geared towards getting better. Most of these activities generally require participants to talk and engage with each other, but Watson initially refused.

It took a lot to get him to speak, in the end what did it was Juno and Dr. Park’s patience and refusal to give up on him. All his life people had either left him behind or forgotten about him completely, this was different. These people actually cared for him. 

“I’ve been looking over the nurse’s reports and I have to say, your progress is commendable, Jay,” Dr. Park says, pausing to take off his glasses to clean them.

Watson nods. “Thank you.” 

“You aren’t there yet, but I believe we can get you stable and back in the real world before you know it. Would you like that, Jay?” The psychiatrist questions, putting his glasses back on and peering into Watson’s face with searching eyes.

Watson shrugs. “If you believe I’ll be ready.”

Dr. Park shakes his grey-haired head. “No, no, no. I need to know if  _ you _ think you’re ready.”

_ Aren’t you the expert? _ Watson thinks but keeps it to himself. “I am...not sure, Dr. Park.” The real world is the reason he’s here in the first place. He doesn’t think he’s ready, at least, not right now.

The psychiatrist nods. “Well, one day you will be. I assure you, lad. Just do not get too comfortable here. You’re a fine young man, you belong out there.” He gestures to his office window that has a view of nothing but the forest that surrounds Pembleton for miles. Watson figures he means the city where people hurry to get from one place to the other and step on each other without caring who they’re trampling on.

“Thank you,” Watson repeats. He desperately wants to go now. There isn’t much to look forward to in the ward, each day is more or less the same, but no matter how monotonous it gets here, at least he has a place where he feels safe. Out there, in the “real world”, there’s no safety net to catch him if he gets bad again. 

He knows if he leaves, it’s just a matter of time before he has to come back again. He doesn’t want to live in that cycle, but at some point, the decision will no longer be up to him. He doesn’t want to end up like Malcolm who’s likely to grow old here, but he doesn’t want to end up dead either. 

This is his limbo, staying suspended in this place where he is neither living nor dead. It’s just a matter of time before he is thrust in one facet. The problem is, he’s not sure which one he’ll prefer.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh misery, what a beautiful name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> This story may surpass ten chapters but I'm staying on the safe side and leaving it at ten and will update if needed. 
> 
> Chapter and story inspiration: 'Running With the Wolves' by AURORA
> 
> <3

The next day in art shop, as they call the session of time dedicated to group arts and crafts, Watson goes to his usual seat to find that Mary isn’t there. When Juno greets him that morning, he asks her about his friend. Though he feels he already knows the answer.

“She doesn’t want to speak to anyone right now. We’re hoping she’ll come around later on today,” Juno tells him. 

Watson nods. This happens from time to time with Mary, but he worries nevertheless. “Is there anything I can do to help?” he offers.

Juno puts one hand on her hip and rakes the other through her perfect brunette curls. “I’m afraid not, at least not now, love. Better give her her space.”

He nods. He wants Mary to be okay. She’s the only friend he’s managed to make here besides Juno and with her absence, Watson feels lonely.

Juno must notice the change in his expression, because she pats him on the arm quite gently and says, “If she comes out later, I’ll tell her you’re concerned.”

Watson smiles. “Thanks. I hope she gets out of her funk, soon.”

Juno smiles back but her eyes don’t hold any promises. She turns back to Martha and they leave the nurse in charge of today’s session alone to get started.

For most of the day, Watson’s heart isn’t in the activities. When it’s finally break time, he doesn’t hesitate to go back to the koi pond. Out there, he relaxes for a bit before heading back into the building. Malcolm, Sasha, Troy and Frank are in the video room watching a Tom Cruise action movie, probably one of the Mission Impossibles. Frank calls him.

“Hey Jay, we’re having a bit of an argument and we need someone to settle it,” the older man tells him.

Watson gives them a half-hearted smile. “What’s the matter?”

“Who would win in a gunfight, Ethan Hunt or James Bond? We have a bit of a tie, you see,” Frank explains, while Sasha, Malcolm and Troy point their curious gazes towards Watson, eager to hear his answer.

“And in answering this question, I’ll be the tie breaker?”

Frank nods, impatiently.

“I’m not familiar with many Tom Cruise movies but I’ll have to say Hunt because he scaled the Burj Khalifa and that’s pretty impressive,” Watson declares, rather unhelpfully.

“But how does that prove he can win a gunfight?” Frank questions.

Troy interrupts him. “Oh you’re just mad because you and Malcolm lost!”

With that, Watson excuses himself and heads to his room. An old copy of “Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair” lies waiting for him on his bed. His roommate, Christian, isn’t here yet, so Watson gets comfortable and reads.

It’s dark when he startles awake, scenes of a brutal war flashing across his eyes like a movie he cannot shut off. His heartbeat thunders in his chest, and his clammy palms scrabble to find something to hold onto. It isn’t until the unsettling images slow to a halt when he remembers to breathe.

Standing on shaky feet, Watson checks the time on his cellphone. It’s 7:15 pm. He’s late for dinner and if he doesn’t hurry he’ll certainly miss it.

Putting his phone in the pocket of his pants and laying the book down to rest on his bedside table, he rushes to the eating hall. 

Terry instantly looks down at his watch when he sees Watson scurry in. “Almost missed it, lad,” the male nurse comments, giving Watson a smile and pointing him towards the line to get his food.

Most of the tables are occupied, but Mary’s still nowhere in sight.  _ She’s probably eating in her room, _ he figures. 

Sitting down to dig into his meal at a lone table at the far end of the room, he tries to focus on the food instead of the chilling memories of his dream. He’s going to have to discuss this with Dr. Park, though if it’d do him any good, he’d never tell a soul or bring it up with anyone. However, that’ll just give the nightmares more power to have dominion over his life and he’s finished with that. 

He eats in solitude, watching the ward go through the motions of meal time, a silent observer. 

When it’s time to line up for nightly meds, Sasha and a few other patients make it there before him, so Watson slots himself in the queue, waiting patiently. Normally, he’d try to make conversation with the person directly in front of him but tonight he’s too worried about Mary. Small talk just isn’t interesting him.

The line crawls slowly forward. A lot of chaos happens at night behind the scenes with the staff, it’s common for things to decelerate. Nightly meds take longer, showers, and bedtime check ins too. He doesn’t mind though, it’s not like he has anything exciting planned. Where’s he rushing to go? His room to read more Neruda? 

Someone taps him on the arm and he turns, surprised to see Mary. Her long, blonde almost white hair is unbraided, and it frizzes slightly where it rests by her waist in long tendrils. Her green eyes flash at him with that same child-like wonder. She gives him a small wave.

“Hey,” Watson greets. “I was worried about you. Is everything alright?”

She shakes her head, her smile faltering a bit. “Would you like to go on the roof with me?” she offers, ignoring his question.

Watson balks. “Tonight?”

She nods, her expression turning grave.

“Alright,” he says.

Once they’ve taken their medication and the nurses are seeing most of the ward to bed, Watson follows Mary to the roof, but not before grabbing his jacket from his room. 

It’s not hard to get there. If they wait until after bedroom check ins, sneaking off is the easier part. There’s a bit of climbing as there isn’t an elevator they can access that’ll take them straight there, so they have to take the stairs. It’s hard being quiet when climbing that many steps but it’s always worth it, simply for the view alone.

The moon is a crescent tonight and the stars, unimpeded by city lights, shine brilliantly from up above. The forest waits ahead, dark and looming, but quietly calming, like the monster that lives in his head that rarely makes a sound any more.

Mary stands by the ledge, staring straight ahead.

“You had me scared for a moment. I thought --I--I thought -- I don’t know what I thought,” Watson admits, but holds back. He can’t tell her how much she means to him or how terrible he’d feel if she decided she didn’t want to be his friend anymore. He’s just not ready. What if she laughs at him for being ridiculous and melodramatic?

“You did not tell me how you ended up here,” she questions, pointing those dulling eyes at him, the signs that her medication is kicking in. Soon, she will be a little more talkative but a lot less enchanting. Although medicated Mary is less charming, he prefers her to Fairy Mary, because this way, she’s more likely to remain safe and sound, not so willing to partake in risky stunts.

He shrugs. “I’ve told you many times, but I don’t think you were listening.” As he speaks, she gently traces the concrete ledge of the roof with her hand as if it’s some remarkable, wondrous thing.

“Hmm, the war was too much for you. And your father was a cretin,” she remarks.

He nods. “You  _ have _ been paying attention,” he says drily.

She smiles, revealing a dimple in her left cheek. “Of course I have. Would you like to hear mine?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he reminds her. “You don’t owe me anything.”

She smiles and her fingers slowly trace his arm leaving goosebumps to rise on the skin even under his jacket. 

“Jay, you’re the only boy to never take something from me,” she whispers. 

Their gazes meet briefly before Mary turns away. “The only boy to never leave me with nothing.”

He shakes his head. “I know it’s not enough, but I’m always here if you need me.”

She smirks and then after a moment, she asks, “Why do you stay, Jay?”

He blinks. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

She points to the floor beneath them, where the ward waits a few levels below. “Why do you stay here? At this place? You could be anything you want,  _ do  _ anything you want, instead you’re here, mingling with mental people and befriending a girl who believes she’s a bloody fairy for Christ’s sake.”

He shakes his head, negating her statement with the motion. “I don’t think there’s anywhere left for me to go. And I like it here.”  _ The world is unkind to broken people. _

She frowns, and turns her sad eyes back to the view. She says nothing but Watson hears a million words in her silence. 

Finally, she mutters, “What are you really afraid of?”

He blinks, taken aback by the question. After a moment, the answer bubbles to the surface, tumbling out of his mouth without his permission. “My father won’t let me back in the house because I left the Armed Forces. He’s ashamed of me. I really and truly have nowhere to go.”

“Don’t you want to accomplish something? Do something great before you grow old?” she inquires.

He rakes a hand through his hair, beginning to get frustrated with this conversation. “All I’m trying to do is survive.”

She folds her arms and peers deep into his eyes. “This isn’t survival, Jay, this is a slow, paralyzing death. We’re all running out of time but we can’t tell because they pump us full of pharmaceuticals.” 

“Enough, Mary. Alright? I understand.”

“No,” she yells. “You don’t! You cling to this place as if it’s your sanctuary, without realizing it is your ruin. Do you know what I’d do if I had one day out of here?”

He shakes his head. “No, Mary. What would you do if you were out of here for a day?”

Her lips pull down into a frown and she goes to the ledge, raising her head to the stars, her gaze lost in another place. “I would visit my mother, we’d sit together on our large verandah while she braids my hair and we’d listen to the birds chirp around us while we relax and bask in our view of the countryside. That’s what I’d do if I got out of here. Did you know she makes necklaces? Beautiful ones too. I always wanted to help her in the shop, but I can’t because I’m here.”

“There’s nothing out there for me, Mary. Trust me.”

She smirks and rests her hand on his arm. “Haven’t you heard? I don’t trust anyone.”

He knows she’s half-joking, but he can’t find it within himself to smile or laugh. Instead he pulls his jacket further around him and takes her hand. “Let’s head back, shall we?” he suggests.

He doesn’t miss her murmur under her breath, “To hell, the place we call home.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Please stay tuned for more!
> 
> <3 you guys!

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning: this is a slow burn. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! More to come soon!
> 
> I have pre-written a few chapters of this fic beforehand so I don't get behind on updates. You're all wonderful. Please stay tuned for more.


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